A Violinist's Tragedy
by Aagnae
Summary: Preparing for live performances are always the most nerve-wracking of circumstances that surely no one essentially enjoys waiting out. During a particularly long wait Miss Rose Lalonde receives yet another fascinating inquiry from none other than grimAuxiliatrix.


Disclaimer & notice:::: This is merely a one-shot written by an author who in no way shape or form has any ownership over Homestuck itself or any of its writing/artworks/concepts. Any unnecessary 'flames' will be disregarded as unnecessary as well as fuels for smores.

Eventually one must come to a _shocking_ realization that no one gives a shit about violin competitions; which was an essential reason the young Miss Rose Lalonde must persist with her glamorous engagement with the potentially sorrowful life of the violinist. Or at least that's one way to put it. A way that is in fact by all means far more superior then the reasoning for irony possessed by a particular internet friend that everyone has regarded with disdain upon her mentioning his existence. Like Rose the mentioned friend also takes part in musical activities even if they stray from the performing sort that she's about to take into action.

Once more we must come to the unfortunate realization that despite the fact that no one gives a shit about violin competitions many still go far too out of their way to attend for reasons that must have just been to strike her nerves through the rafter infested ceiling.

In all actuality she cared not whether she won or lost. This lack of care is unfortunately an awfully small part of her mental 'zone'. The incredulously more sizably bits desire winning purely for the fact that losing would provide her mother satisfaction in comforting the despaired daughter. Under no circumstance should she ever allow this to happen.

Staring into her lap at the now effaced program she notes the ten performers set to perform before her as just with her splendid luck she happened to be the last placed upon the list, which would usually be found as a vital wave of relief for most but it merely serves as a nerve builder. Ten performances with twenty allotted minutes each. It's projected to be practically forever until her turn.

Clenching the program she gazes once more over the listing of names resisting a sneer after gazing over the seventh contestant 'Marrian Suzzane'. Just the fabulous luck of Miss Rose Lalond right here to compete against deviantART's own actual mary sue right here.

Despite the situation where she may falsely pose a chance of losing and in result allow mother to comfort her while in the despaired state she manages a mere smile as her gaze trails upwards in search of the (hopefully) wildly and naturally colored hair possessed by this ever-so perfect Marrian Suzzane.. Her search was briskly interrupted by the eerie ring of her so called messaging device blaring the usual ring for incoming pesterchum pestering.

Quirking a brow she fishes for the delicate device in the abyss she dares to call a knit purse. Lifting the device's touch screen to a decent viewing angle in which no one in the surrounding and for the most part empty seats can take their viewing pleasure of its sleek excellence.

The first thing to catch her eye was the handle; grimAuxiliatrix.

What the pleasant surprise we have here. It's none other than the apparent friend who goes by no known name other than her(?) precarious choice in handles. GA has been a recent visitor to her list of chums that formerly resided on the lonely zone deemed the blocked list. The constant roleplaying prompts are admiringly unnerving yet on occasion she likes to take the words as if they were the actual truth. To imagine future beings contacting different hers in a variety of different times is simply astonishing to take place in a mere matter of minutes on GA's line of perspective.

The 'trolling' she partook in was of a genuine interest to Rose as the sophisticated language placed in the sentences of GA were a eloquent change of the usual pace experienced when conversing with three of her closest internet friends/pen pals when the moment arises. She has to admit the use of 'human' as an adjective became quite irking as it's, as she's previously gone to state, something only present and barely acceptable in downright horrid science fiction novels.

Best to keep from stalling and inquire as to what she may seek.

_- grimAuxiliatrix[GA] began trolling tentacleTherapist[TT] –_

_GA: After Reaching A Conclusion On A Suiting Time In Your Perspective Of Course To Contact You Once More Ive Managed To Determine That Now If Any Is An Incredulous Opportunity To Contact You_

_GA: As I Believe To Have Previously Mentioned Time Isnt Too Difficult To Understand Then Again From Your Perspective Your Experience Is Lacking In The Area_

_GA: This Matter Is Nothing To Fret Over As In All Due Time Youll Come To Understand The Extensive Nature And Functions Of The Timelines Themselves_

_GA: Although I Expect That At This Point In Time You Are Unaware Of The Session Before You This Is Correct_

_TT: From my current state of gathered knowledge, yes, that is correct. _

_GA: Excellent _

_GA: Placing The Rather Lengthy Introductory And Apparent Successful Statements That Induced This Conversation Aside For The Time Being_

_GA: How Are You_

Gazing up from the screen she notices the first contestant making his solitary bow before making way off stage through the thunderous applause. Even with her excellent state of eyesight she can't manage a decent look at the boy's face. It's as if he were merely a blurred photograph taken to life as a marionette by some unknown guiding force.

It wasn't the first time she'd seen something similar. As the audience flowed in around her she noticed each of their faces seeme- off. Whether it was the inability to focus on the features or the blurry photographed marionette, something was not right in the slightest about the lot surrounding her.

If her memory recalls correctly two of her male internet friends have also described something quite similar. GT having mentioned never seeing his neighbors in the entirety of the time he's lived there. TG has never mentioned anyone else aside from his guardian whom in which happens to be his own brother that always dons mysteriously thick as hell shades, this along with the either downright idiotic or not even existent visitors of his brother's pornographic puppet site.

Three lives. Three locations. Three portions of the country in which there's more than one thing that's just- off. Unfortunately, GG, the fourth of the four friends has nothing to report people wise due to living on an island formerly inhabited with just her and her grandfather. Along with of course her loyal dog Bec; who has, according to GG, always displayed some peculiar and expectedly abnormal tendencies.

Shaking off the sudden plunge into deep thought five performances before Marrian Suzanne herself the gaze averts back to the device. Her silence is well due to be broken with a response.

_TT: Considerably well. This is of course without regards to the current situation that currently possesses a great deal of suspense tied in with the painstaking listening based pre-show._

_TT: Pre-show is an awfully rude understatement for a sporadic amateur hour like so. _

_TT: It's as if the contestants lack knowledge as to what is truly at stake here as well as what there is to be won in the event of success._

_TT: Which for some; is the most unlikely of all successes. _

_GA: How Tragic_

_GA: For Them That Of Course Is_

_GA: You On The Other Hand Seem To Have Extensive Hours In Which To Continuously Add Onto The Projected Ego Buildup In The Event Of Success_

_GA: Which You Seem To Have Without A Doubt Absolute Certainty On_

_TT: Mind you my ego serves just fine without the constant poison you may or may not be feeding it at the current moment._

_TT: My certainties are merely in place as failure would mean an unfavorable outcome._

_GA: Now What Must This Outcome Be Now_

_TT: Under most normal circumstances I wouldn't utter this to eccentric roleplaying prompt obsessed and centered trolls._

_TT: But._

_TT: I suppose since we've been officially declared friends I can make an exception._

_TT: There's been a constantly on-going battle of wit in play with my mother that's in some way shape or form consumed our lives in a rather intriguing manner._

_TT: You see, I cannot allow her the satisfaction of providing comfort to the despair enveloped me that would result from failure._

_TT: In fact. _

_TT: I must be the one with the satisfaction of her being speechless in my victory._

_TT: An event where each and every carefully planned word of comfort will propel itself directly down the waste bin. And I will be victorious. _

_GA: Fascinating _

_GA: This Guardian Like Creature You Have Deemed To Be Your Mother Seems Like Quite the Interesting Character_

_GA: Unfortunately I Cannot Relate As My Own 'Mother' Isnt Of An Exact Form Similar To You Or I And In Fact Cannot Speak_

_GA: Well For The Longest Segment Of Time She Couldn't_

_GA: Recently With Engagements To Spritehood We Managed To Finally Communicate With One Another_

_GA: Ill Have To Admit That It Was Unfortunately To Some Degree A Disappointment Despite The Intellectually Sound Conversation We Managed During Those Short Moments Before All Hell Broke Loose _

_GA: Im Regretful To Inform You That This Is A Despairingly Common Place In The Timeline I Currently Reside In And Its Equivalent That A Future You Reside In_

_GA: On A Brighter Term And Side There Are Some Relieving Differences_

_TT: Differences? _

_GA: Differences That Itd Be Advised Not To Dwell Further On _

_GA: Averting Back To The Topic At Hand_

_GA: What Was Your 'Mother' Like_

_GA: That Is If You Dont Mind Explaining And This Wouldnt Stretch Our Friendship To Thin_

_TT: I don't mind at all._

_TT: Like you noted upon she was quite the character and as much as she was the character she was even more of an awful role model._

_TT: Her drinking problem usually leads her to partaking in questionable activities such as cleaning the home while under the effects of alcohol. _

_TT: I'm sure if we ever had any sort of family gathering I'd have the graceful opportunity to shout the one phrase I happen to know in French which happens to be 'La femme boit' or 'the woman drinks'._

_TT: If I had any French relatives I'm far more than certain that they'd be quite impressed._

_TT: Alas, for all I know I may not have any others at all aside from my mother._

_TT: Strange isn't it. _

_TT: Some have countless known relatives, cousins and even distant ancestors that they hear about on a continuous daily basis yet here I stand with no knowledge of them._

_TT: In fact I don't really know much about anyone else other than my friends and mother._

_GA: No One_

_GA: No One At All_

_TT: No one._

_GA: Not Even During Your Human Schooling Sessions Did You Truly Never Know Another Face Or Your Instructor _

_TT: Unfortunately so. Looking back it's essentially all a blur._

_ Staring upwards she finds the tenth contestant to be near the conclusion of their piece as the facts roll over her. The first being that she'd just so happen to miss the entirety of Marrian Suzanne's performance with the second being that she was next. Next._

_TT: Despite the unusual level of intrigue present in this conversation I'm afraid we must part as my turn has arisen far sooner than I initially expected._

_TT: You wouldn't happen to be in attendance to the performance would you?_

_TT: All leads point to no but I figured it was worth a scrape asking. If you're ever in the area I by all means invite you to visit unless you'd prefer to maintain your troll status behind the screen._

_TT: 'Till our next encounter, GA. _

_- tentacleTherapist[TT] blocked grimAuxiliatrix [GA]–-_

Taking a deep breath the lucky number ten takes a graceful and obviously well practiced bow before trotting off stage donning a grin. Taking a deep breath as the announcer returns on stage she collects her violin and slips through the stage ramp where she begins her anxiety ridden wait behind the curtain. Moments later after the introduction has been uttered she steps forward to center stage, turning to the crowd.

The previous descriptions are confirmed. An audience that must extend to half a thousand or more possess faces that one would expect to come from the shittiest of cameras where no matter how hard you tried or how perfect the lighting was you'd never get a clear shot. The strange thing is, it was only their faces. Not the slender necks that conjoined with the fancifully donned flank. Not the velvet seating surrounding them. Not the dark walls embedded with lights. But their faces and nothing but their faces.

It's as if they were non-existent.

It's as if they were false.

It's as if they were already gone.

Subduing the thoughts in a manner similar as taking anxiety medication she raises the bow to the violins delicate strings; and plays.

In a surprisingly near future, atop a meteor catapulting through a space that has yet to exist in a majority of its contactable reigns is the mysterious roleplaying prompt stocked grimAuxiliatrix.

Staring blankly at the husktop screen with the message of block blared in the lower left corner she sighs in a dreamy manner as the musical notes cascade through the speakers at both sides of the machine blocking out the faint mechanical whirr of its inner workings.

GA stared into the husktop's screen where a window was evidently opened displaying the glorious performance of miss Rose Lalonde. For her timeline it'd only be less than a month until the session would begin.

She could almost shed tears. For this Rose Lalonde would not make it any farther. How foolish of her. To get attached to the doomed.

GA closed the eyes of her own before a raspy shout echoed from the other corner of the self proclaimed 'technological hub' of the meteor.

"KANAYA YOUR ASSITANCE IS REQUIRED DUE TO THIS GEARED UP ASSMUFFIN'S MAJOR FUCK UP WITH SARGEST FOUR EYES OVER HERE. YEAH YEAH. I GET YOU HAVE SHIT TO FORESEE BUT FOR THE SAKE OF, I DON'T KNOW, NOT STAINING THE GODDAMN HUB WITH MULTICOLORED SLUDGE AGAIN I THINK YOU SHOULD INTERVENE." Her moments of blissful listening to cloud the resulting enveloping sense of despair was then effectively blasted to shards. With a sigh GA, who we now know to be Kanaya, arises from her spot sparing the doomed Rose Lalonde a final glance before heading on over to deal with the imbecilic conflict fest.

Regarding the situation with disdain as fishlips spews out a slur involving the term pissblood that's without a doubt possessing an origin that happens to be a hemoistic asshat. Placing her mind in a better place as her thoughts trail to the symphony of notes eloquently waltzing directly from the speaker system she ponders a final statement, or rather warning, she should have sent to the young Lalonde girl.

GA: Miss Lalonde You Were Born To Die


End file.
